


i'll be here to hold your hand

by cryoreal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Smut, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:05:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryoreal/pseuds/cryoreal
Summary: Prompt fill: "A modern AU where one of them keeps having saucy dreams about the other and gets super flustered around them during waking hours."Sansa and Robb are roommates in college, and childhood friend Jon likes to crash on their couch a lot to get away from the monotony of dorm life. This leads to some interesting nighttimes for Sansa.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



It wasn’t his fault.

Not really, anyway. It wasn’t his fault he was so damn attractive. And he didn’t even seem like he was trying. 

But when Jon crashed on the couch in the apartment she shared with Robb for the fourth time that week, Sansa wanted to kick a wall. It meant that for the fourth morning (almost in a row), she would have to go downstairs to see his ridiculously messy bed head and standard plaid pajama bottoms and she would have to drink her coffee and pretend she didn’t just see him naked in her dreams. 

“Morning, Sansa,” he grumbled, reaching around her for the coffee pot, and she swore she started sweating. 

“Morning!” she squeaked, grabbing her mug to flee to her bedroom. 

She had to take care not to slam her door, not to let on that anything was wrong, and she passed a hand over her face before slumping down to the floor. 

_“Morning, Sansa,” he breathed in her ear, his fingers ghosting down her chest until they reached a nipple, pink and tight. “Did you sleep well?”_

_Sansa was only able to keen out a moan as his mouth closed over her other breast, lapping at her gently, and he paused in his ministrations to look up at her. “You didn’t answer my question, love.”_

_“Yes, Jon!” she gasped out, her fingers tugging his hair to bring him back down to her chest, shaking slightly with her hurried breaths._

_She swore she felt him chuckle against her before he kissed his way down her belly, hands cupping her ass before he spread her legs with his shoulders._

_“May I?” he murmured against her flesh, and she moaned happily, carding her fingers through his curls, and he brought his mouth down to-_

“Sansa? Are you okay?”

She startled out of the remembrance of last night’s dream, which was only the latest of her obsession with Jon Snow, to scramble away from the door, spilling coffee on herself in the process.

“Shit! Fuck!” she cursed as it soaked through her tank top, burning her chest in the process.

“Um… do you need help? Can I come in?”

“One sec!” she called frantically, looking for something to mop up the coffee with. She had just done laundry, and not a towel was in sight, so she just ripped off the shirt instead, searching through her dresser for a clean one.

“Hey, you sound like you could use…” Jon trailed off as he saw her, topless and covered in coffee, her door now wide open.

“Jon!” she squeaked again, eyes wide in shock - but not as wide as his.

He seemed to realize he was staring after a long five seconds, after which he shouted, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” covered his eyes, and backed out of the room, hands over his face as he stumbled away.

She wanted to be embarrassed, but her chest started to shake of its own accord, and then she started to laugh. Full, deep, belly laughs, with her stained top clutched to her bare chest, coffee forgotten on the desk. 

When she finally composed herself, she pulled on a tshirt to run to the bathroom and wipe the stickiness from her skin, and only then did she venture carefully out to the living room, where Jon was sitting on the corner of the couch, looking absolutely mortified.

“Sansa, I am so so sorry. I didn’t really think it through and I didn’t realize you would be… you sounded really upset and I could hear you knocking things over and I thought maybe you were hurt, so I thought that I could…”

“Come save me?” she arched a brow at him, and he had the decency to look down at his feet sheepishly. 

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Well, you could start by making me another cup of coffee.” 

He slowly looked up, a grin making its way over his face. “Deal.”

\--------

After two months of crashing on their couch at least every other night, if not more than that, Jon moved in with Sansa and Robb. 

She didn’t mind, not really. He wasn’t _trying_ to infiltrate her dreams, as far as she could tell. He was just there. 

At first it was only once a week, and that she could handle. She could never look him in the eye the next morning, but he didn’t seem to notice. She took her coffee to the deck and sat out in the cool spring air to try to clear her head of him, but he always came back.

After he’d been living there a month, it was closer to three times a week. It was now more normal for Sansa to wake up drenched in sweat, visions of Jon’s tightly muscled chest hovering over her emblazoned into her mind’s eye. _That_ was because she had run into him right when he was out of the shower one morning, only his lower half wrapped in a towel. She never forgot the sight.

She was letting the breeze roll over her skin one such morning when she suddenly heard the screen door screech open. 

“Hey, Sans,” Jon greeted her casually, settling into the lounge chair across from her. 

“Morning.” Sansa stared straight into her coffee mug, willing her face not to flush. 

“Got any good plans for today?” 

“Um, not really. Just hanging around.” _And making good use of my vibrator._

“Would you want to go shopping with me?” 

“What??” Her eyes flicked up from her coffee finally, seeing his hands clenching tight around the arms of his chair.

“I need some new clothes, and I know you’re in school for design, so I just thought maybe…” he trailed off lamely, curls falling over his face.

Sansa took a deep breath in, willing her voice not to shake. “Sure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. I’d like to help.” She carefully hid her tightly clenched toes behind the legs of her own chair, not willing to let him see her tension. 

“Thank you, Sansa. So much. When do you want to go?”

“Just let me go get dressed?”

“Yeah! Of course. I’ll be in the living room.” 

She practically scampered off the porch and into the house. 

Last night’s dream had been particularly bad. Or good, depending on how she looked at it. 

_She was handcuffed to the bed, clad in only a tiny wisp of silk over her hips and thighs. Jon was straddling her near her knees, one hand cupping her face gently._

_“I hope you’re ready, sweet girl.” With a single movement, he yanked the fabric down her legs and guided them so that they were wrapped around his waist, his cock just barely rubbing at her entrance. When she gasped and nodded frantically, he plunged into her quickly, petting her cheek to take away any sting he may have caused._

_He fucked her desperately, needily, setting a quick pace that she was hard-pressed to meet with her hands cuffed above her head. She arched her hips the best she could, swiveling into him, and he let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl before attacking her lips with his, refusing to let up until hers were swollen and plump._

Sansa shook her head, trying to dispel the dream before getting dressed quickly in leggings and a loose, gauzy top. She only hoped she could keep those intrusive thoughts away for a few hours while she was too close to Jon to hide. 

When she made it down to the living room, she grinned probably a bit too widely. “Let’s go!”

As Jon drove to their local outlet mall, she tried her best not to stare at his hands gripping the wheel so that she could stop thinking about them gripping her thighs. 

She managed to find him an array of clothes in a selection of muted colors, and he seemed happy by the end of their trip. She was happy to be leaving, if only so that she didn’t have to stare at his biceps… chest… legs… all of the above. 

The sweaters he liked clung to his shoulders obscenely, the skinny jeans he preferred showed off his ass too well, and when he jokingly slung a beanie over his crazy curls her panties were finally toast. 

He didn’t notice how often her voice squeaked, or her hands shook when she handed him a shirt, or how much she seemed to cross and uncross her legs in the passenger seat of his car. 

Jon had to ask her three times if she was hungry before she heard him, but she didn’t think she could handle one extra minute with him before spontaneously bursting into flames. 

When she managed to say, “Maybe just sandwiches at home?” without any sort of odd inflection, he actually smiled at her and said “I was thinking the same.”

_Oh boy, you are not thinking the same things as I am._

“Before we get home, I wanted to talk to you about something.” His fingers were drumming the steering wheel, and she readjusted herself in the seat before nodding at him, not trusting her voice. 

“I’ve noticed that you seem a little uncomfortable around me lately, and I just wanted to ask if there was anything I could do to make you feel better.”

“I haven’t been uncomfortable,” she protested, her voice rising a little higher than it should have, and he shot her a sideways glance.

“I’m not blind, Sansa, and at least twice a week you practically run from whatever room I’m in. If it’s about that time I walked in on you-”

“No!” she practically shouted. “No, it’s just… a personal thing.”

“A personal thing,” he deadpanned back. “Care to share.”

They had just pulled into the parking lot, and she buried her face in her hands. “It’s kinda embarrassing and you really don’t need to know.”

“Okay, okay. Can I help at all?”

“You could stop being so damn sexy,” she muttered under her breath, not realizing he could hear her until he started chuckling quietly.

“I could say the same to you, you know.”

She mock glared at him until he pouted at her, running his thumb over her cheekbone. 

_She was astride him, stroking his cock next to her belly as he stroked her cheek gently. “Whenever you’re ready, love.”_

_It was the longest of moments as she lowered herself onto him, taking her time to really get used to his length inside her. His hand stayed on her cheek as she began to bounce on top of him, watching him groan underneath her. She loved the way his hair splayed over the pillow, and she reached down to run a hand through the soft curls as he pressed kisses to her neck-_

“You in there?” Jon murmured, and her eyes snapped open. “You were gone for a moment.”

“Sorry,” she whispered, leaning into his hand before she realized what she was doing.

“That’s alright,” he whispered back, brushing her hair back from her face before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s get some lunch.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and ye shall receive. Here be smut.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ Jon chanted to himself, one hand pressed to the shower wall desperately, his other hand much more occupied. 

It had been two weeks since he felt the cool skin of her forehead under his lips. Two weeks, and god knew how many orgasms. 

He couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t her fault, not really. She was just there.

Jon had to deal with her breezing downstairs every morning, a vision in a messy bun and oversized tshirt, drinking her coffee with perfectly pursed lips. And then he immediately had to run to the bathroom and take a shower, so that he could beat the memory of her topless chest out of his brain.

It didn’t work, of course, but he could keep trying. 

The hot water beat down on the back of his neck as he finally came, his breath coming out ragged as he saw her perfect chest in his mind’s eye. He would never forget how peachy her nipples looked, the way her tits jiggled as she straightened her back. And then he had to go and _kiss_ her, of all things, and now he was well and truly fucked. 

Sansa stopped him on his way back to get dressed. “Have you seen my blue sweater?”

“Your what?” he replied stupidly. 

“My sweater,” she repeated. “I need it, Marg and I are going shopping.”

It was only then that she seemed to notice he was mostly naked, because her gaze dropped and didn’t come back up.

“Check the laundry basket downstairs, I think I saw it there,” he said, as casually as he could manage. _I need to get a shirt that says “my eyes are up here.”_

“Great!” Her eyes flicked a little lower once more before she patted his bicep, flashing him a bright smile. “Thanks, Jon!”

His gaze followed her ass discreetly as she bounded down the stairs. 

Sansa had always acted a bit aloof around him, sometimes even downright rude. Twice in one week she had run outside in the middle of a conversation they were having, without even looking back. He tried not to take it to heart. Lately, though, she was more friendly, and more… open.

After their shopping trip, when he heard her admit she thought he was sexy, she seemed to be warmer around him. And he would have to be an idiot not to notice how much time she spent staring at his chest. 

He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but maybe she just needed a little push. 

So, when Sansa came home three hours later, with Robb gone to his girlfriend’s for the weekend, she found Jon in her bedroom, clad in only sweatpants. More specifically, on her bed.

“What the fuck?”

Jon watched the bags in her hand thud to the ground. “Hey. I thought maybe we could have a little chat.”

“A chat,” she echoed back faintly, her eyes falling down, down, down… “Why don’t you have a shirt on if we’re chatting?”

Jon shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s warm in here.”

Sansa sat down gingerly beside him, and he noticed a visible effort on her part to keep her eyes trained on his face. 

“Two weeks ago, you called me sexy.”

A muscle in her cheek twitched. “Objectively, you are sexy. It’s just stating fact.”

“Sansa.” his voice lowered to a groan. “I know what’s been happening.”

“You do?” she squeaked out, and he saw real panic in her eyes. 

“I just want you to know that I like you too,” he whispered conspiratorially, reaching out to take her hand in his. He saw something strange pass over her face before he leaned in, kissing her cheek gently.

“I know you’d never truly admit it, but you think I’m attractive, and I feel the same about you. So, if it’s something that you might want to do…” he held his breath and waited, hoping he hadn’t read the signs all wrong.

Her eyes were wide when she suddenly stood up, pacing across the room. 

“I’m so sorry if I misunderstood, Sans, but let me-”

“Hush,” she tossed over her shoulder before pulling her shirt over her head. “You’re shirtless. This is only fair.” She unclasped her bra as well, flinging it over a chair before turning around to face him.

His memory hadn’t done her justice. She looked incredible doused in coffee, but plain, clean Sansa was even better. 

His mouth watered, and he reached out a hand to cup one breast, feeling her lean into his hand. _If this is a dream, never wake me up._

“If this is how you’re going to play the game,” he murmured quietly, before leaning back to rip his sweats off and chuck them near the door. 

There was no air left in the room. Sansa’s eyes went down, down, down again, and he relaxed back on his elbows as her gaze focused on his cock hungrily. 

“Fair’s fair.” Her skinny jeans came off next, but he held up a hand to stop her when he saw her panties.

“Lovely.” Jon pressed a kiss to each of her hips, running his fingers over the soft fabric there. “You look incredible in blue.”

“I’ve heard,” she tossed back cheekily, and Jon had to shake his head with a laugh. Far from the nervous, flustered girl who had run from him for months, Sansa in the bedroom was fire incarnate. 

He ripped them down her thighs himself, nuzzling into the warmth there as she swayed on her feet. 

Jon gently guided her to sitting on the bed, settling himself between her legs as she draped her calves over his shoulders. “Are you ready?”

She was panting heavily, propped up to see him pressing kisses to her thighs softly and she moaned, letting her head fall back. “God, yes.”

He wanted to do this gently for her, slowly, and so he delicately traced the outsides of her lips before spreading them open in front of him. 

“Beautiful girl,” he whispered, letting the cool air whisper out onto her, and she wriggled her hips in front of him. “Be patient.”

He slipped his fingers up her slit, collecting the wetness there as he circled her clit gently, listening for the ways she keened quietly. When he pressed a finger into her center, she practically rocketed off the bed.

“Shall I hold you down?” he murmured into her, and was rewarded with a jerk of her hips. His free arm came up to drape over her hips, holding her upper body down but allowing her to circle towards his hand still as he kissed everywhere but where she needed. 

“Please!” she whined finally, and Jon happily lapped his way up her slit, kissing and licking to find the spots she liked most. 

He finally settled into a rhythm, two fingers pressed deep inside her while his tongue and lips danced and suckled on her clit. Hearing her moans was better than any symphony he could imagine, and he closed his eyes happily to focus on her sensations, the way she strained against his face, the feeling of her hands clutching him to her by tugging on his hair. 

It was a few moments of keeping his rhythm steady before her hips started to falter in their circling, jerking sporadically against his mouth. Jon opened his eyes just in time to see her arch her back against the bed, her hands pulling his hair enough to hurt, but he refused to let up until she whined wordlessly and tapped his shoulder.

He wiped his mouth and crawled onto the bed to lay next to her, laying his hand on her belly as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Jon…” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering open, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “I need…”

“Tell me, sweet girl.” 

Her hand grasped his cock suddenly, and he groaned. 

“I need you to fuck me senseless.”

He jerked his head up to look at her, truly look at her, and she met his gaze with hooded lids. “Are you sure?”

“I am more positive than you can imagine.”

Jon grasped her by the waist, scooting her up the bed until there was room for him to kneel between her spread legs, her center still glistening from her orgasm. She pulled his cock to her, rubbing his head into the slickness there, and he thought his eyes were going to roll back permanently. 

He couldn’t keep his hands off her. She was busy slowly pushing his cock into her, her other hand stroking down his back, but he couldn’t seem to pick a place to keep his hands on her. He traced her jawline, stroked her coppery hair down to a nipple, pinched it gently before running his thumb over the small of her waist, dipping it into her belly button. 

She wriggled underneath his wandering hands, giggling a little as he grazed over her more ticklish spots, and he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of her tightening around his cock when she laughed. He wanted to brand the feeling of her body into his brain. 

He was sliding in and out of her slowly, so slowly, trying to warm her up when she suddenly gripped his chin, tipping his face down to hers with her thumb. “Faster.”

“Yes, princess,” he smirked, increasing his pace just the tiniest bit, and she hooked her ankles together behind his back.

“More, Jon, please.”

He was pounding her into the bed, her head just started to hang off the other side, but she had a vise grip on his biceps. Jon had no intention of stopping until she groaned , her hands squeezing tighter.

“Flip me over.”

He paused immediately, using his free hand to cradle the back of her neck as she sat up. 

“You heard me.”

He might have been in shock, because she finally squirmed out from underneath him and repositioned herself the right way on the bed, her ass opened up in front of him. 

“Are you just going to stare or what?”

He came to his senses then and whipped his hips around to align with her pussy, slipping back into her easily as they moaned in tandem. 

He thought he was hearing things at first, but then it became apparent that she was truly whispering “harder, harder, harder.”. Jon Snow was never a man to deny a lady what she wanted.

“Like this?” he grunted, feeling her legs begin to shake underneath him. When her knees wobbled as well, he moved one arm to stabilize her hips, the other still massaging her ass as she bounced back into him.

“Yes, yes, yes!” 

He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride as she shook underneath him so he fucked her harder, watching her gasp for breath as he slammed in and out of her. 

He didn’t really know what her ass looked like on its own, but he imagined it was just as good as when she allowed him to fuck her like this. 

She was still eagerly bucking into him when he felt his release slam over him, and his hips jerked into hers needily as she cried out. 

When he finally collapsed over her back, completely spent, she was giggling quietly.

“What’s so funny?” he mumbled into her skin, and she only laughed harder.

“Why, Jon Snow, that was straight out of my dreams.”

He pressed a soft kiss into her neck. “Mine, too.”


End file.
